


the streets are paved with lead

by noaboveorunder



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Fluff and Angst, Gangsters, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Josh Dun is a Sweetheart, Lowercase, M/M, People are Assholes, TOPFL February Challenge, because I'm lazy, but not really, tyler is poor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noaboveorunder/pseuds/noaboveorunder
Summary: he slept in the coal chute.





	1. Chapter 1

the 1930s weren't all happy days filled with sunshine and swing music. the 1930s were cheery rich americans fumbling with their golden necklaces and staring at the poverty-stricken dying. the 1930s were the starving children trying to munch on dirt when nobody was watching. the 1930s were the terrified people already dipping their toes in a blood curdling world war.

josh hated the 1930s. and as bad as the 1920s were, he was just a kid. now, he was conscious of the world around him, conscious of the shameless acts of his own family, conscious of the starving children and jobless parents. the aristocrats from the dun family seemed to appear completely immune to the tragedy around them, and so joshua packed his luggage and left in burning frustration. 

he's moved houses to live in less wealthy parts of ohio, purchased a factory and gave out jobs for whoever needed it - as far as he could go to save a fistful out of scads. the poor looked up to him - he was their savior, almost. that showcased just how desperate these people were, just because josh let them fumble with car parts on a production line.

josh's house wasn't a huge mansion on a hill - just a cozy wooden house somewhere in the suburbs, with a view on dark forests and spacious fields. it was enough to make him feel more humane, without the maids or ill-intentioned dames. he wasn't doing very well with cooking, washing dishes nor watering the plants, but lighting the furnace have been going quite smoothly now - and the warmth was enough for josh to feel peace. 

the autumn wasn't josh's favorite, especially when he had to put on his coat and head to the basement, as the furnace needed to burn much more intensely than in the summer. this insufferable tuesday he had to restart the fire twice during the day, and it already started to die down in the middle of the night. 

josh's goosebumps and the clock showed three am and the dark dust floated in the air, through josh's lungs, reminding him of a thick, tar-like cigar as he headed down the stairs to the basement. 

josh turned on the lightbulb, opening up the heavy wooden door. basements have always carried dread in them, and dun couldn't finger why. they were dark, dirty and mysterious. the fact that he had to approach it in the middle of the night sparked fear in his chest, as his shaky hands grabbed the shovel.

dun was sweating at this point, which wasn't manly at all, but all the scary stories his brother would always tell just started flashing in his brain anew. all the beasts and violent creatures, and murderers and cannibals. josh was beyond terrified.

he sighed heavily, letting one layer of the weight slide off. he could do it. he was a man. 

josh opened the door of the furnace, eyeing the minuscule fire that remained. he moved the wood particles around, freeing some sparks but nothing else. the man squeezed the shovel, approaching the stack of coal and digging into it.

doing it once wasn't enough, there had to be at least four shovels to keep the fire up until the morning. and so, joshua digged and digged, and the furnace started to finally fill up.

"ow! wh-- shit! ow!" josh heard from the dark pile, dropping the shovel to the floor. his heart jumped all the way to the ends of his wired, sweaty hairdo. 

dun stared at the chute in blank terror for over a minute, before deciding to finally man up and rat out whatever was hiding in the coal stack. he grabbed a pickaxe that's been hanging from the wall and approached the unwanted guest. 

"who-- uh, who are you? show yourself!" josh said in an attempt to sound firm, but his voice wavered way too much for it to be intimidating. 

the only response josh recieved was a quiet racket somewhere on the back of the coal pile. the grip on the wooden pickaxe tightened, as he muttered his last prayers. 

"c, come on!" josh shivered, the swinging warmth of the furnace making him sweat twice as much.

"y'have a gat on ya?" the pile responded. josh frowned, taking a glance at the dying fire and sighing. the fact that it was a human and not a flesh-starved beast slightly regulated his heart rate. 

"no. i don't have a gun." josh responded, still handling his pickaxe firmly.

"and y'won't harm me, ya?"

"well, if you don't hurt me, i won't." dun stated, looking around the dire basement yet again. he was not-so-frankly scared of the size of the beast that could count as much as ten feet of length and another ten in its width. at least that's how josh's brother would enclose every demon that's hiding in a basement.

the pile moved, a couple of loose coal pieces falling down and rolling towards josh's feet. dun swallowed his thick saliva, letting it drip onto the knot that's formed inside his throat. the dust particles filled the air, polluting josh's deep breaths of concern. then from the pile stood up a lanky young man, his body and thin clothing painted tar black from the dirty coal. josh sighed with ease. he certainly wasn't ten feet tall, nor ten feet wide, nor appeared as a blood curdling beast. but he was in fact so dirty and weak that it brought horror to josh's very eyes. 

"uh, what's your name? and what brings you here?" josh asked in a calm manor, as calm as he could appear to be in a situation as wired as this one. 

"tyler. was cold." the man responded, staring at josh, standing atop the black pile in the dark, his desperate eyes dimly lit with the light of the bulb flickering across the room. "pretty please mister. y'won't kick me outta here, will ya? i'm just a sick fella, no job."

joshua nodded slowly, trying to get an understanding of the situation. there was a stranger sleeping in his hard, heavy coal chute, sick and jobless, begging him to stay. josh couldn't focus, his mind had just processed the thought that it is not a humongous beast hiding in his basement a while ago.

"er. isn't it a, a little uncomfortable here?" asked the host, picking his pride up off the floor and trying to finally get a hold of the situation. 

"we gang wolves know no comfort, slept on streets and stuff," the guy, tyler, responded. now joshua knew where the ear-piercing jargon came from. 

"aren't gang members dangerous? should i even let you in?" josh voiced his concerns, watching the man sit on the chute, relaxing under josh's cautious stare. 

"nah no way. if you ain't a copper or some fuckin' stool-pigeon, you fine with me."

josh didn't feel like asking what 'stool-pigeon' exactly meant, so he decided to turn around and revive the fire, feeling the desperate stare of the dirty gangster boy on his back. the basement didn't feel scary anymore. it was more like the intimidating atmosphere around the sleepy stranger filled the void and somehow made it better, safer. josh didn't like to question people nor their intentions, and that was his greatest vice. 

and so, even though it could be a ten feet tall demon hidden in a lanky boy's body, even though he could steal all josh's precious collectives, even though he could murder josh in his sleep, joshua nodded. josh nodded in tyler's direction, letting him stay. because damn his well-intentioned heart, damn his family whom he hated and have always tried to prove wrong. damn it all. he let him stay. 

"you can stay here. just... don't bring in your gang friends and make any ruckus. can you do this for me?"

"hell yeah. thank ya' man! 'precciate it lots and lots! won't be here morning!" the man shouted out excitedly, his loud and undressed from any manners voice punching through the crickets and the cracking fire of the night.

joshua didn't know what to do next. he straightened out his pajama shirt, nodding with his lips pursed tight. the boy's stare lingered on him as he turned around and left the basement.

the more steps he'd take towards the ground floor, the louder crickets in his brain played. his mind turned like a broken record, repeating the same metaphysical conversation between him and the stranger seamlessly sleeping in his own coal chute. it didn't feel real. it felt like a wild dream, a mirage of wired oddities. even now he felt weird just thinking about it. it felt weird because he's agreed for him to stay there. and he didn't even know whether it was a one-time thing or something more. who would want to sleep on a hard, dirty coal chute anyway? 

a gang fugitive in hiding would.

blinking heck, josh was so so screwed. all he wanted was a warm house and a good night's sleep. he certainly wasn't in for helping an escapee hide from blood curdling gunmen possibly lurking on him outside. there's supposed to be an end to how helpful and soft-hearted josh can be.

perhaps he was overreacting, maybe there weren't any gang members with guns walking the streets in search of a dirty, lanky guy sleeping in a coal chute. but josh would rather be cautious, just in case. he just hoped he'd dissappear at dawn, as he surely wasn't excitedly awaiting another conversation filled with confusing gang jargon and coal particles flying around in the air.

josh wasn't sure if he's made the right decision by letting him stay the night. josh wasn't sure if he'd wake up the next day in one piece. josh wasn't sure if tyler was safe, breathing in the dust of the dark, scary basement. josh was guilty of trusting others way too much, daring to care about a dirty gangster's health. 

josh didn't fall asleep that night, squeezing his revolver tightly.


	2. Chapter 2

as the cold morning approached, josh was still alive and well. he's fallen asleep somewhere around five in the morning and woke up at noon, surprisingly in one piece. immediately after his tired vision began to dehaze, he dived into the basement, taking a transitory look at all his precious belongings on the way.

joshua took the shovel and disrupted the pile of coal for a while, not hearing any whines in between the falling rocks. he wasn't there. just like he told josh, he left when the morning came. to josh's surprise, the furnace was full as well - tyler has stuffed it with coal before leaving. josh couldn't help but smile.

the man just simply stared at the dark, dusty pile of coal in front of him, trying to recollect the boy he met last night. the exact words he said, the exact way he spoke, the exact way his weak, lanky body hovered over the hard, unstable texture below him. by his brain's colorful resemblance of that person, he seemed tired and scared in between the dire and intimidating attitude he tried to present, he didn't fool joshua completely.

remembering the way his sore throat hacked through the words, as if through spiky thorns, and the occasional sniffling through the reddened nose, josh has to admit - he is worried. worried about a fella who trespassed into his house and took a nap in his coal chute. josh must've lost his mind already. except, he feels like he has the right to be concerned. tyler was all dirty and sick, and the middle of autumn isn't quite the nicest in ohio. josh wonders how he managed to stay alive until now, as his skin must be thicker than a brick wall and his immune system intrepid and gallant like no other.

thinking. it only makes him feel guilty for letting this man go. all by himself, with no money nor food, sick and jobless in the streets. there's no way he'd survive an entire week like this, he already looked completely worn out. the whole gang situation, too. just who was that lad? speaking the oddest jargon and spewing nonsense with his sickening dry and blue lips. he certainly didn't look like he belonged to any sort of mafia - he didn't seem like the fella who'd harm a fly, let alone a human being. where is his family in this situation? are they poor? or did the mafia make him crawl on the streets like a rat? josh cannot imagine turning in dirt and coal to avoid getting shot down by some scary, strong man on a bike. josh cannot imagine just how terrifying it is.

even josh's family wouldn't let him get this low. yes, their worldview is completely distorted and their snobistic nature could never admit they were wrong, but they still care for josh's wellbeing. they still care whether josh is alive and well; still breathing, eating and staying warm. the infrequent calls make josh almost sure of it. 

being born in such helplessly cold and bumptious family didn't make josh's childhood complete hell, but it was, indeed, somewhere very close to that. somewhere behind the devil's furnace, where poverty didn't exist, but depression and fear leaped in circles. at least josh could always count on his brother. well, jordan wasn't necessarily the cleanest, pure-hearted man either. but setting aside his materialistic tendencies, he was josh's only best friend that he cherished above all.

jordan was the only person who supported josh when he left his family home. he believed in josh and listened to him, gifting him great advice. he is the only person josh cares about in the entire world - but the time of separation had to come one way or another. dun rented out a car-producing factory. he quickly hired as many people as he could, not very concerned about gaining money as much as the fate of the starving poor citizens. his family often called him names for it. they called him fake, trying to gain a good reputation, acting like a white knight. josh didn't care. josh doesn't care about the polluted opinion of these spoiled people. he doesn't care about any opinion that wasn't his own.

all josh has to do is to hire and to keep them hired, he has people to to the rest. that way he's made some friends, not very dear ones, but friends. that is one of the few things that would make him get through the day. along with the satisfaction from helping others, keeping himself warm, listening to calm music and drinking bitter coffee.

as josh parks his car in front of the factory, his smile widens. these people don't bother with being less than nice to josh. they have to be. they have to, but josh doesn't mind. josh is naive and way too forgiving, and that's what he learns as he steps into the antechamber of the factory.

"right, mary? bet he's a cake-eater. tha' sap, doesn't even notice all the girls tha' want him are gold diggers."

"that high hat, jus' lookin' at his face makes me upchuck. he's a sugar daddy fo' sure."

the words that spill and drip from the wall behind josh seem to sting like venom without even touching his skin. he's never heard his employees complain about him - he's always tried his best for their good. why would they treat him in such disrespectful way?

"hey, 'ya give me an earful from 'yer stupid talkin'. dry up." another female voice resonates in the room behind josh. "the boss's doings are none of 'yer bussiness."

"so's your old man." the woman responds bitterly, shame leaking from her thorn of a throat.

"beat it." the dame from before responds, bringing josh a slight feeling of pride and consolation through all the anxiety and infuriating confusion.

josh's mood turned on the fire alarms in his brain, as everything he looks at seem drained from any color and sense. he feels betrayed by his own people, when he thought they were his friends. he's heard people talking; they aren't friends, they are employees - but he wouldn't believe. he was sure that of all the people working here, there wasn't one person who could hate him. he gave them an occupation, so that they could feed their families. what did josh do wrong?

dun comes sulking into his office, setting his briefcase aside and greeting mark, one of his coworkers. he isn't poor, but his family want him to become more responsible and useful. josh doesn't mind his laziness and mark doesn't mind josh's weird choices of conversation topics, so they settled.

"what's eating you?" mark asks as soon as josh came in, leaning against his desk. josh sighs.

"'s nothing. can i tell you something?" dun asks, trying to forget about the words that made his heart ache and soul diffuse.

mark nods, clearly interested. josh doesn't have many interesting stories to tell, nor is he a person to tell anyone his secrets. josh is helplessly private and prefers to stay that way. but this time, it is different. he needs another person's point of view so that maybe his mind would finally feel at peace.

josh told him the entire story. it wasn't long, nor overly thrilling and filled with action, but mark still seemed glued to josh's words like a fly stuck in tar. he didn't ask questions, he didn't want details - mark processed josh's words in his head, making up the full picture along with who tyler was, how he looked like and what his background was. josh didn't like it about him at all. but he still hoped that mark's ability to always see the wrong no matter of a situation could rinse his feeling of guilt that's stuck on his conscience like a stubborn stain.

"i feel like i made the wrong decision by letting him go like that. i mean, what could he be doing right now? he's sick for god's sake." 

"that fella, let me tell you," mark breathes out a laugh, making josh's blood boil with annoyance. "he saw a nice house, poor naive joshua's house, and thought he'd play an egg like you like that." mark says with a smile, a smile that makes josh see twice. mark has no right to laugh. mark is wrong.

"that's not true. he didn't seem like the type to do so. why would he? in my coal chute?" josh asks, visibly angry. mark can't help but smile even more.

"ah, joshua. you and your poor naive heart, i'm surprised you're still alive acting like that." eshleman says, patting his friend on the shoulder.

josh decides that asking mark was definitely a wrong idea. he still feels bad, he still wants to go back in time and take a proper care of tyler - or at least call a doctor to check on him. how could he do nothing? how could he just let him sleep on rocks, choking on dust? his lungs must be worn out. what if he gets even more sick? he couldn't help but wonder.

"you seem stressed," the man states. "lemme find you a nice dame, no? you've never had one since i knew you."

"no thanks, mark." josh responds, fighting the dangerous mix of furious annoyance and grief.

the bitter feeling of confusion and anger settles on his brain like dirty coal particles, making it hard to get rid of. he is scared for tyler. the feeling of concern is so hearty and helpless that josh doesn't even bother masking it. yes, he is concerned about the dirty gangster boy sleeping in his coal and if mark makes fun of him, then so be it. maybe josh is naive. maybe josh is oversensitive and making a big deal out of nothing serious, maybe he's getting mortally sorry for a malevolent bastard who tried to take advantage of josh's good heart. so be it, so be it. joshua just wants this piercing sensation that lingers in his heart to go away.

sweeping the swelling sting under the rug, he sits down in his desk and begins to fill out documents. his business certainly doesn't ensure him peanuts, but everyone needs their pay. josh doesn't mind. his mother would. except she doesn't know and it's better off that way - she'd always butt her nose in every single hobby of josh's, trying to put him down just because it's not what she wants him to do. no son would ever appreciate that, not even with josh's stainless patience.

josh almost cuts his finger on another piece of paper, as the phone on his desk rings. it throws him out of his little bubble of thought almost violently. he picks it up.

"hello?"

"josh?" the voice behind the phone asks with slight lowliness. josh smiles big as soon as he hears it.

"jordan! we haven't talked in so long!" dun says excitedly, a feeling of content drowning the previous sadness, making it gurgle in the deep rooted familiarity of his brother's voice.

the line is silent for a longer while after that, which forces mark to throw a glance at josh, who waits with a little smile on his face, tapping with his pen against the dark wooden desk. tap tap tap, no answer from his brother. jordan seems ashamed with what he's about to say, so josh tries his best to hold it.

seconds melt into a minute, maybe longer. two. two minutes of complete static and tapping and waiting. two minutes of wasting time and waiting for an answer before jordan finally speaks. and when he speaks, josh's smile falters almost as soon as it came.

"ma wants you to come back."

somewhere out there there's a list of things josh wouldn't do and never will. one of them is spit, because it's disgusting, one of them is smoke, because it's pointless, and one of them is doing what his mother tells him to. because it's only going to hurt and undress him from any freedom he only just received. and it's not that josh has left without a word, suddenly, as a surprise. josh kept telling them he'd leave and never come back, he kept reminding them and even threatening them sometimes. it's just that they'd never take it seriously. they'd never take josh seriously. only jordan did.

"no." josh says firmly, not even considering any other answer. jordan most likely expected that more than a sunrise.

"she's worried about you. we all are. people say your business isn't doing too well." he says. josh knows it's sincere. josh knows jordan would never say such thing if he didn't mean it.

"jordan. i'm fine. it's okay," josh reassures him, fiddling with the pen in his hand and noticing how mark is very invested in the conversation. "i told you i'd never come back. and i meant it. i did." josh is a man of his word. if he says that, he does that. no matter how difficult, how frustrating it is. josh will do it for the sake of a clear mind.

"it's just... we miss you. and..." josh smiles again. he knows jordan is flushed. he isn't the type of person who can talk about his feelings so openly. "if you need any help... i'm here."

jordan was josh's only friend. no matter where he'd go and how many people he'd meet, no one could ever replace his little brother. and of course; he was mean, materialistic and his insensitive mindset sometimes hurt josh's feelings, but he was a kind, good guy in the end. josh's only friend, who have never left him. and he can't leave him.

"listen, i'm doing fine. really. a whole lot better than at home." joshua assures him, receiving a small sigh fried with static on the other side.

jordan didn't like the answer josh gave him. of course he wants josh to be happy. but their mother would make him regret ever letting josh go sorely. she doesn't like it when things turn out not the way she wants. jordan gulps just thinking of the consequences.

"how about... you come for christmas dinner?" he asks with a hopeful undertone in his voice. josh rolls his eyes. he owes jordan, after all the support he's gotten from his side. the older dun isn't fond of the idea of spending the entire christmas with his big-headed family, but sometimes you have to grit your teeth and let the nettle sting.

"uh, sure."

"you just saved my life, do you know that?" jordan sounds sincerely relieved through the phone, and so josh smiles.

"i do know that, actually," josh laughs. "we're going to have such a gay time explaining how i'll never come back home again." a slight sting of anxiety pinches his lungs, but he manages to shrug it off. he can survive it. it's just his mother for god's sake.

 

 

when josh comes home, it's cold and severely unwelcoming. the freezing autumn air and fierce silence of the house gives off a dire atmosphere all over josh's spine and higher. his knees go weak and muscles melt as soon as he realizes he has to light the furnace all over again.

through the blue outlines of the old furniture and black mist of the dark he wades, turning on the light bulbs on the way to the basement. he keeps his coat on. it's a little warmer in the basement but not warm enough to give him any sort of familiarity or comfort from being there. the black particles of dust and coal fly around as usual, like crows, like countless of flies annoying his existence with every flutter of their little coal wings. and the loneliness, just how intense it feels when he's all alone in the dark and the dust and the coal.

joshua grabs the shovel with distaste, wood already burning bright orange hotness for his eyes only. the cracking fire playing a melody for his ears only. the dust flying into his lungs, and his lungs only. josh has never felt more alone, and he doesn't know why. perhaps it's the upgrowth of feelings the day produced. he'd say he's a rather moderate person after all.

the metal digs into coal aggressively and with no remorse. the furnace is going to be the death of him. next time he'd rather stay cold.

"ow!" josh hears as his shovel hits something firm and framed. his heart skips a beat.

"uh... tyler? are you okay?" he asks, not surprised as the lanky figure emerges from the coal chute, even dirtier and more deadlike than before.

tyler's squeezing his palm on top of the dirty, woolen-looking hair. his pained expression doesn't help josh's inexpressible concern mixed with relief. he's alive. josh didn't kill him... yet. joshua notices that tyler's head is bleeding from the violent impact of his dirty shovel. his entire body is trembling and swaying, as if finding it hard to even stay vertical. dun runs up to the chute, messily stumbling to get through the falling coal pieces.

"c'mere, tyler." josh breathes out, tired from trying his best not to fall down and dirty his knees. joshua is closer to tyler than ever, which makes the situation have a strangely unfamiliar sensation following it on the tiptoes. 

the man throws his arm around josh's neck, dun holding his waist and trying to get through the chute safely without hurting the trembling lanky body. he feels too fragile. like something josh, or anyone else, is not supposed to touch it, nor look at it for it may crumble and break from little to no impact. tyler is very sick - josh also notices, as his hands are ice cold but the forehead resting on dun's cheek feels like a burning red piece of metal. he barely gets him up the stairs without stopping to check whether he's here in one piece and didn't crumble away by stepping on the narrow stairs leading to the warmer ground floor.

"h-huh, where am i?" tyler asks in a weak, tired voice that resonates in josh's ears like soft cotton drenched in blood. no jargon, no hard accent. just the feeble, anemic whines of pain.

"at my house. it's me, josh." joshua answers, seating tyler's limp body on the armchair in the living room, as he walks around to find a gauze.

tyler looks around the unfamiliar room, melting into the warmth and comfort of the armchair. he clearly hasn't felt this comfortable in a while and josh can see it in his dirty face filled with bliss, even through the vicious pain.

josh has finally prepared to help the wound, and so he bends over tyler with a cloth covered in cold water and soap, pressing it against the bleeding cut. tyler hisses loudly, his black fingertips pressing into the furniture like they're trying to dig through it.

to say that josh feels bad would be an understatement. josh feels awful. not only was it a sick man that josh had let sleep in cold and dirt, but also a man who got hurt by josh's sharp and heavy shovel so violently that he's lost his consciousness. josh can't just ignore that. tyler's pained expression makes his stomach do somersaults.

fortunately, the wound doesn't bleed as much. josh doesn't own a gauze or any sort of ointment to make the place hurt less, but at least it's clean. tyler's face doesn't look as relived though, as his temperature still hasn't gone down and it doesn't seem like it will any time soon.

"you're all dirty. i'll run a warm bath for you." josh states, not even waiting for a response. it's hard to even see the boy's face through the grease and dust on it. dun doesn't want to know when was the last time the man cleaned himself.

tyler is silent the whole time. it's like he's in some sort of shock, as his loud and nimble personality that josh has gotten a taste of went mild and evaporated as soon as josh stepped in the basement for the second time. he looks like a wild animal in a museum made out of glass, confused and scared to touch anything in case it's precious and breaks - which isn't in his nature at all. 

as josh searches his room for some spare clothes for tyler, he hears a loud, intense cough from the living room. it's so obnoxious and intense that he runs after it, seeing tyler perched on the armchair, hacking into his dirty hands, covering them in... more dirt. it's like his lungs are two smokestacks emptying themselves onto his palms, which looks just as terrifying as it sounds.

joshua comes closer, patting and massaging tyler's back reassuringly. only then does he realize that tyler's eyes are glazed over, ready to spill tears. the gangster boy who slept on streets and wasn't afraid of anything, is now crying right in front of his very eyes. josh can't help but whine worriedly at the sight.

"you're okay now. tyler, you're okay with me. hold on, fella." josh says into his ear, as the hacking slowly fades away. tyler's gasping for air now, wiping away the tears of pain.

"i'm scared." tyler says weakly, his body trembling and tears spilling. josh can't stand the sight. "i'm scared i might die."

"you're okay." josh repeats, still massaging his back until the boy calms down.

small gasps escape tyler's dry and trembling lips, as he wipes the drying tears away. his hands are all dirty, so is his face, but his lungs seemed to almost filter it all. at least josh wishes it just never repeated again, because seeing a man so miserable and scared feels like the worst type of curse.

the silence comes like a blessing, and josh can finally see tyler stand up on his own, swaying towards the bathroom. the man feels like something fierce josh can't help but observe. how his weak moves still carry some wildness in them, how his tired, lanky body still resonates this weird inexpressible energy.

tyler feels like a wild animal let loose, and perhaps josh is willing to tame and keep him for some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, so i plan on updating this fic every 3-4 days. we'll see how it goes :---)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter mentions food and throwing up - just a heads-up.

the way tyler fell asleep feels like all sorts of contrasts mixed together into one mushy pile of warm nothing. josh can't stop staring. his guest couldn't fall asleep on the warmest bed in the house, despite sleeping on the stacks of coal in josh's dirty basement with ease. this man is like a rat used to sleeping on the streets that ran straight into a mansion of gold. 

he's not used to feeling comfortable - josh notices - his hands keep shaking even through his dreams, and his forehead is drenched with sweat even after the medicine. but at least now josh can see his face without all the dirt covering it. and tyler looks young (so young!) with a patchy beard that embraces his face like a wilting bush. josh needs to take care of it. josh needs to take care of him. but is he allowed to?

he is. of course he is. when there's a human being in need of help, everyone would agree for them to stay. that's the only morally acceptable choice. josh can't just walk around and pat himself on the back with every step he takes. but right now he will. it's a good deed to help people who need it. josh likes good deeds. everyone does. but what he had learned the hard way as his life kept progressing, is that no good deed is ever selfless. there's always something you want to achieve by helping someone, whether it's in their opinion of you, their actions or in the simple feeling of light happiness when you've lent your hand. and josh isn't sure what he wants, but he hopes it's nothing but pure.

with that thought, josh goes to bed. his mind isn't racing as he thought it would, but the walls of his bedroom seem to keep echoing the same words, almost shouting out "keep him" and "don't let him go". truth is, josh doesn't know who that fella is. josh doesn't know his background nor what he did to get into this god awful situation. but he's willing to give him the home he lacks, and the care he deserves. because josh wouldn't be able to look into the mirror if he didn't.

the sleep comes easier than the thought of getting out of bed the next day. josh doesn't know what he's supposed to do or say. josh doesn't know whether tyler will still be there by morning or if he'll get up and go. he falls asleep nevertheless, and it's a deep sleep that keeps your body in a cloud-like haze, covering your mind in a warm blanket, making it hard to wake up again.

but josh wakes up again. as if ripping him out of a scorching delirium of sleep and peace, with a warm cloud beaming with its welcomeness right next to his knee. he opens up his eyes, slowly, tired irises focusing tiredly on the silhouette sitting on the bed. it's tyler. his back is perched over his embarrassment and patient waiting - josh isn't sure for how long he's been waiting, but the knee tyler's been sitting on is way too warm for it to feel comfortable. josh changes the position of his leg, surprising him with the sudden movement. he begins to speak, a tad bit too fast for josh's hazy, sleepy mind.

"thank ya, boss. ya' hav' no idea how thankful iam!" he says with the same thick accent josh had greeted in the basement. "thank ya, thank ya so so much! imma so glad, folk, jus' kno' tha' i 'precciate it, man! c'mon, imma help ya' out with house work! i--" the wired and messy sentences are stopped by a sudden loud coughing fit. josh springs up immediately, patting tyler's back.

the boy's cough is mostly clean, maybe some grey patches appearing on his palm here and there. it's nothing compared to the smokestack waste he's let out of his body the night before.

"tyler, you should stay in bed today." josh says, observing the boy's glazed over eyes that only ever scream for help.

"nah! i-i... imma clean the windows! sweep the floor!" the man stands up from the bed far too quickly, as he falls back almost immediately, his muscles weak and mind in pure disarray.

"i want you to stay in bed. if you don't, you'll only get sicker." joshua states, his eyes scanning tyler's stubborn flushed face. he doesn't seem convinced enough, and so josh adds: "i won't let you stay here if you say no." whether it is too violent of an approach, josh will worry later.

tyler looks like a stray dog whose tail you stepped on. lost. tired. sick. timid. all because of a few scary words that speak of his wellbeing. josh hates seeing him that way, but he is also almost certain that the boy wouldn't be so willing to obey if dun tried a different approach.

the boy goes back to his bed, just like josh asked him to. dun takes advantage of the friday morning and decides to prepare the only breakfast he can with the blinding lack of products in his kitchen. he just hopes that tyler wouldn't mind muddled french pancakes with strawberry jam, as that's as far as it gets.

dun opens the cupboards. they carry an unfamiliar feeling as joshua rarely gets to open them during the day. he makes the batter and grinds coffee beans as the pan heats up. do gangsters drink coffee? of course they do. how strong do gangsters drink their coffee? very. maybe. josh pours five teaspoons into the mug.

the pancakes come out looking quite... interesting. josh is no chef when it comes to cooking, despite trying his best. he just isn't used to doing it on his own. washing the splashed batter off the furniture is something josh expected would happen. he's had his cloths ready for it. when all that's left is to scrub the burned pancake pieces off the pan, tyler's already in the kitchen. he's staring at the breakfast, to josh's surprise, with sequin shiny eyes. 

"it's uh... for you. you can eat them. don't force yourself if you don't want to, i know they look quite--" before josh finishes his sentence, tyler is devouring on the living massacre that are josh's travesty of pancakes.

the breakfast disappears at such dizzying pace that josh wonders whether he'll need to make more. it's like the man sees food for the first time in years. josh is happy for tyler, but at the same time he wishes it was something of better quality than what he shamelessly put in front of his nose.

"do you like it?" josh asks for other sign than loud chewing noises that make his ears wilt and a dirty chin. tyler nods vigorously.

"yuh, man, haven' eaten these in years!" he says, his mouth still full. josh smiles anyway. he's never cooked for anyone before, let alone getting complemented for it.

"hah, it's alright. just don't eat so fast or you're gonna--" the man finishes josh's sentence by perching his back and throwing up at the wooden floor of the kitchen. dun sighs heavily at the sight, while tyler looks rather disgusted and ashamed.

josh can't say it was unexpected. it totally was. maybe not as fast, not as close as right in front of dun's own shoes, but it was, in fact, expected at some point. takes no prophet to assume that it would happen, with the pace of tyler's excited mouth and jam that had already managed to spread all over his face.

"m sorry, man! gonna clean this up r'now! jus' gimme a minute, feelin' bit dizzy now..." tyler stands up, swaying like a lonely piece of grass that's left in the wind to wilt and die. josh hooks the boy's arm around his neck.

"rest now, i will take care of it." he says. tyler looks like he wants to protest, but at the same time he recollects josh's morning words. what he thinks it means is, if he disobeys - he'll be thrown back into the streets. but that's not how it works. "listen, i don't want to throw you out. i won't. but i want you to get better, so listen to me. okay?"

tyler nods. josh isn't scary. if anything, he's the least intimidating person you could ever meet. that's why children cling to him, that's why no one ever treats him seriously. well, tyler does. but that doesn't count.

when josh had cleaned up tyler's vomit without a single word of protest, all he can hear is the fella begging for his forgiveness. he can't help but laugh between the cries of "m so so sorry, i'm ashamed, heck, m an idiot sorry!" and so he speaks.

"aren't gangsters supposed to be tough and shameless? what's with that?" the question brings a nervous expression to tyler's face. josh smiles even wider. "not a tough fella after all, huh?"

tyler snorts, rolling his eyes. he crosses arms on his chest, staring josh straight in the eyes with his dark, soft orbs. "'s normal to be grateful. we ain't impolite in the chicago mafia streets."

josh nods with a shit-eating grin that never leaves his face. maybe tyler isn't someone who he claims he is. but that's just a hunch. doesn't necessarily need to be true.

 

 

it's twelve pm sharp when joshua arrives to work. tyler is peacefully asleep and stuffed with almost every pill josh could find in his cabinet. so maybe he'll be fine and breathing when dun gets back home. at least that's what josh wishes for.

as dun walks into his office, mark is desperate to ask questions. not the nicest ones, either. but josh can't just brush them off, as he knows mark isn't the one to give up, ever. he's stubborn, lazy, mean and josh's friend. and everyone hates him for it.

"how's our little coal boy? has he appeared lately?" his sneer never seems to go down.

"yeah. i took care of him. his condition was pretty bad, still is. probably gonna keep him for a while." dun answers with no hint of falsity. mark seems crestfallen.

"don't tell me you got yourself a stray?" he huffs. josh rolls his eyes. of course mark would react this way. "i told you what he's in for! don't let him fool you. you're so naive josh."

the blood flowing under josh's skin seems so boil and form scorching vapor, melting his brain and creating sticky residue that leaks out of his mouth in boisterous words that he'd never expect himself to say out loud. mark's behavior makes him feel special way of angry. he can't control it.

"why do you always pry into my decisions, mark? swear to fucking god, you always treat me like a child. you're not always right, asshole!" josh snaps. he would never act this way, apart the time he moved out of his family home and had to face his parents beforehand.

"listen, josh. i'm just worried about you, that's all!" he says, taken aback by josh's loud response. "you don't know that person. they could be dangerous, and i don't want you to get hurt because of such thing. i want you to be careful, and i know for a fact that that's what you're not."

josh sighs with contempt towards the words mark had spewed out less than a minute before. it feels sticky. like something that doesn't belong. tyler can't be dangerous, have you seen his young, patchy face? he can't be dangerous with that face. and that lanky body of his? josh wants to laugh. he's two times that fella's size. he's more than safe, thank you very much.

"fine. forget about it. you're an adult, right? regret your own decisions." mark says, diving back into the messy documents sprawled all over his desk. josh doesn't feel very willing to forget. he's still a little stormy about it. but he manages to nod, holding it in.

joshua can't put his finger on it. why would he care about what others think? he never really did. but when someone calls tyler names, he feels like he's about to burst. maybe it's the night filled with painful hacking and helpless crying, or hours spent on washing the bathtub from dirt after tyler had sat in it for two hours with little to no effect. it's the entire bar of soap rubbed into his crying skin that leaves him bothered by any bad word focused around him. he can't just stand and watch. not now. after his shiny eyes staring at breakfast, happy eyes. he can't.

maybe he's not supposed to keep wild animals inside, but that's exactly what he wants to do.


End file.
